Divine (11 page)

“Excuse me, Dr. Fitzpatrick. It’s time for
Ms. Lovett’s injection. I need to take vitals.”

“We’ll finish our conversation in the hall,”
the doctor said.

No, I need to hear what happened to
Cadence!

Chairs screeched against the floor. Footsteps
scuffed, then a soft tap signaled the door had closed.

Odd, how those sounds she wouldn’t have
noticed previously now boomed in her ears.

“This will feel like a prick.” The nurse said
and rubbed something over her stomach.

Ouch!

“There, that was easy.”

For you, maybe.

The nurse wrapped something around her bicep.
The motions and sounds of a blood pressure cup squeezed her
muscle.

“Trina,” the nurse said. “Just know, I
believe you’ll be okay. You’ll make it.” The tightness from the
blood pressure cup eased. “One time, a doctor told a little girl’s
family to kiss her goodbye.”

Is this supposed to cheer me up?

“Five days later, the three year old woke
singing
Mama Mia
. So you see,” the nurse continued with a
laugh and patted her hand, “you’ll be fine. Though, I don’t expect
you to sing.”

Okay, maybe the story did help.
Thank
you
, she said but again, no words escaped.

“Can I have a minute with my sister?”

Bradley came back! She wanted to jump out of
bed and hug him.

“Yes, of course,” the nurse said. “I put
medication in her IV drip to settle her. If she can hear you, which
I believe she can, she won’t for long. Soon the narcotic will help
her sleep.”

“How can you tell when she hurts?”

“Her heart rate increases.”

“Has it always?” Bradley’s voice amplified
with excitement.

“Yes, it happens sporadically.”

“I didn’t realize.”

“Understandable, you’ve been under a lot of
stress.” The nurse made a clucking noise. “You’re a good brother.
Katrina is lucky to have you.”

I am!

A chair screeched and the door closed.
Bradley grabbed her hand and rubbed his thumbs over her skin.

I love you, Bradley. So much. How are you,
big brother? Don’t worry, I’m okay.

If she could cry, she would.

“Don’t listen to him! The nerve of that
doctor to tell us to expect the worse. What a pompous ass. Sis,
you’re a fighter, always have been.” He let out a long drawn out
sigh. “The police still haven’t found out who caused your accident.
With no license plate on the car, locating the SUV is like finding
a needle in a pile of horse crap. They are optimistic. Cal, the
dipshit, still hasn’t called to check on you. I didn’t tell you
this before, but when I told him about your accident, he couldn’t
get off the phone fast enough. He said he’d call when he wasn’t
mad. The guy needs to grow a pair.”

Her insides constricted. The day she ended
their relationship, Cal was hurt, upset. Still, if he held any
compassion, he would have come.

“Cadence is improving,” Bradley said, not
hearing a word she thought. “She’s had several surgeries. It’ll be
some time before she can come see you. She’s anxious, of course,
and said, ‘Tell Trina to get her butt out of bed and get the guy.’
Bradley chuckled. “No one needs to ask who she’s talking
about.”

Matt! Cadence was referring to Matt.

Bradley stayed quiet so long she thought he
might have fallen asleep. “Katrina…” His voice quivered, “there’s
something I have to tell you. Since day one, I promised I’d sit
with you and not withhold any information.”

Before today, she hadn’t remembered him being
there.

“I didn’t keep my promise for fear you’d give
up.”

Did he lie? Is Cadence okay?

“Thankfully, what I have to say isn’t as
unpleasant as telling you about the death of the driver. Man, that
was sad.”

The male who’d groaned
. The sting went
straight to her heart. She wanted to cry for him, for his
family.

“Matt is okay.”

What? Matt?
What was Bradley talking
about?

“He’s on his way home.”

Home?
She mimicked a recorder,
repeating Bradley’s words.

“A bomb detonated near him.”

Heaviness pressed on her chest.
Hurry,
what’s the rest?

“I don’t know the details, but he’s in rehab
and doing well.”

The weight lessened.

“Mom and Dad don’t want me contacting him. In
the emergency waiting room, Mom snatched my phone when I went to
the restroom and deleted his number from my cell. They’re evil.
They said since you haven’t spoken to each other for a year, there
was a good reason, and demanded I keep my nose out of it. They
believe whatever happened between you two would make you worse.”
Bradley made a sneering noise. “I don’t agree. He’ll help you, I
know he will. I heard from a buddy of mine that he’s coming home
soon. Trust me, sis, I’ll find him.”

Excitement and anxiety intermingled. She
wanted to hear Matt’s dreamy voice, feel him touch her; yet would
it affect him to see her lying in bed not moving?

Her thoughts grew groggy.

Weeks had passed since the doctors removed
the lower half of Matt’s leg. Today he flew home, back to the area
where he’d lost the most. Losing a leg was hell but didn’t compare
to losing his parents and his best friend.

He and Trina were finished. A fact, yet not
something he accepted or wanted to think about. The dark place his
mind wallowed in wouldn’t go away. During rehab, the doctors had
talked until they threw their hands in the air and stormed out of
his room. He didn’t blame them. He didn’t like being in his mind,
either.

“Take care,” said Private Driscoll, the lone
person he let close since his buddies had taken fragments from the
bomb to vital parts of their bodies. Even Liz, soft and sweet, who
recently joined the platoon, didn’t survive. “I’ll catch you
stateside.”

“Looking forward to it,” he replied, knowing
he wouldn’t see Driscoll again.

He maneuvered the steps to board the plane.
The prosthesis still irritated him, more mentally than physically.
He hobbled to a seat and flopped into it. Other men and women under
medical release sat nearby. One man lost an arm; another wore a
patch over his eye. He didn’t inspect the people sitting in the
rear. No doubt, they had similar injuries and wanted to be left
alone. He relaxed in his seat and closed his eyes. In no time, the
plane landed and he disembarked. The fact he slept for over ten
hours didn’t escape him. He’d been beat and hadn’t been able to
rest much with all the rehab.

Outside, he breathed in the humid air and
searched the crowd, waiting on the tarmac.

Travis’ face was tight, his mouth firm. He
inspected him like his father would have, with compassion, caring,
and the I’m-sorry-for-what-you’re-going-through expression.

Matt blinked and swallowed the sour taste in
his mouth.

“Hey!” Travis pulled him in for a hug. “Damn,
I like having you home.”

“I’m half the man, I was,” he said, not
releasing him.

“You can never be half a man, squirt!” His
brother patted his back. “Never.”

He chuckled at the childhood nickname. “Who
are you calling a squirt?”

Travis cocked his head and searched his face.
The deep concern in his eyes about broke him. “Damn glad to see you
again.”

Another tight squeeze, and Travis reached for
Matt’s duffle.

“I can carry it.”

“I know, but I want to do this.” Travis
placed a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s go home.”

Appreciating his big brother’s comfort, he
walked in silence to the silver truck.

Pulling out of Andrew’s Air Force base and
heading northwest toward home, Travis said, “I assume you’re
staying at the house.”

“Where else?” He stared out the window.

“Dunno. That’s why I asked.”

Travis tried to behave as if nothing had
changed, but not him. Everything he’d held dear, the things making
him tick, had disappeared within a few months. Eerie, how life
transformed so quickly. One moment he loved life, feeling good, and
ready to take on the world. The next, he didn’t much give a shit
what happened.

“What about finding a job?” Travis asked
after an hour-long stretch of silence.

“I may contact the fire department.”

“You haven’t mentioned being a fireman
since,” Travis paused. “Since before...”

“Yeah, I know.” Matt’s decision to become a
sniper happened the day Dad had died.

“Dad would have been proud of you. Mom, too,
but Dad would have been showing all his buddies your
commendations.”

Their dad had bragged endlessly to his
friends about his boys. “I miss them.”

“Me too,” Travis said. “Every day.”

An awkward silence stretched between them
until the sting grew too much. “I plan to call a few fire chiefs,
see if any of them are willing to take on a one-legged vet who
can’t run into a building or climb a ladder.”

Travis pulled into River Grill’s parking
lot.

He tugged on the handle, but his brother was
faster and locked the doors.

“Food after you recover from your pity
party.”

“Here we go,” he said, “acting like my
parent.”

“Fuck. I don’t want to be anything but your
big brother, but I have all three jobs.”

Another guilt he wore like a badge. “And
who’s your parent? Who watches out for you?”

Travis’ face flushed. “I thought it was
obvious. You are.”

He jerked his head toward Travis so fast he
heard a bone in his neck crack. “Say, what?”

“We’re it.”

“I know we’re it,” he scoffed. “You’re five
years older than me.”

“So? Does that make it any different? Maybe
at thirteen and eighteen it did, but not anymore. Hell, you fought
in a war. Seen the worst in life.”

The dangerous places Travis flew scared the
hell out of him. “You find people who no one believes
survived.”

“Same, but different,” Travis said. “Do you
want to talk about what happened?”

“No.” His curt tone left no room for
discussion.

“Okay, then are you good with the River Grill
for supper?”

“Here works.”

Travis unlocked the doors, and he climbed out
of the truck.

The scent of grilled burgers and fries
cooking in oil produced a growl from his stomach. “I’ve missed
this.”

“Lots of memories,” Travis grinned and opened
the restaurant door. “You want the usual?”

“Yeah.” Just like they’d done numerous times,
Travis ordered while he gathered napkins, straws, and condiments
from a nearby counter and found a clean booth.

“You don’t want to talk about what happened,”
Travis said a little while later and placed the tray of food in the
center of the table. Groaning, he unwrapped his burger and bit into
it, waiting for the next question he didn’t want to answer.

“Will you tell me about Katrina Lovett?”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” He shoved a
fry into his mouth and swallowed some soda to wash it down. “We
were friends, now we’re…not.”

“Why?”

Trina wasn’t up for discussion, not with his
brother or anyone. “Want to share about your women?”

“I’ve got nothing to tell.”

“You sure?” He prodded. Instead of inquiring
about the near miss Travis had on the last search and rescue, he
teased about women. A safer subject that wouldn’t open wounds. He
knew too well, a person talked when they were ready. “Maybe the
problem is you don’t know where to start. Too many women want a
part of the great Travis Carson, rescue pilot.”

Travis didn’t appear impressed by his comment
and bit his burger more eagerly than a dog eating a steak.

“You’re as warped as me,” he said around a
mouthful of food. “We’re too screwed for anyone to get close.”

Travis lifted a shoulder and balled the
hamburger wrapper. “Listen, I rented a cabin in Montana. Want to
go?”

Montana, his parents’ dream destination.
After an anniversary trip, they had fallen in love with the
mountains. “You’re doing the same thing as me. Living their
dream.”

Travis picked at his napkin. “While I’m out
there, I’m looking to buy some land.”

He straightened in his seat. “Really?”

“I’m ready for a change. What if I use our
inheritance to buy land out there? Would you consider moving?”

The idea sounded great, but he didn’t know
what he would do the next minute much less plan for the future.
“I’ll think about it.”

“At least head out with me for a couple of
days.”

As much as coming home bothered him, his
mental wounds needed a chance to heal. “Nah, I need to stay here.
At home.” Before Travis changed his mind and decided he shouldn’t
be by himself, he added, “Alone.”

Releasing a sigh, Travis stretched out his
legs. “I need some recon time myself.”

His mission to find a four-year-old girl lost
in the Blue Ridge Mountains nearly ended when his plane’s engine
cut out. He’d almost bit the bullet, or mountain in this case, but
his exceptional piloting skills had saved him.